I turned away from placing my dumbo ears to the TV news each day. It wasn’t because it scared me so much, although that is a partial reason, but it is depressing to me.
I turned away from placing my Dumbo ears to the TV news each day. It wasn’t because it scared me so much, although that is a partial reason, but it is depressing to me. With my healing process of losing my brother; I don’t need any extra depression in my life.
The days of the hippie, free and caring, the world is a pretty place, flowers in our hair, pot everywhere are gone. I am not saying I experienced any or all of this but I do remember thinking the world is round. The world is full of possibilities; the world is full of love.
I don’t think it is totally a fact that my age has changed my views on those hippie days, but more a realization that the world is not all about flowers; but it is all about love.
As I read the postings on Facebook, or even play with Google search, highlights show over and over our world still has happy moments; but is crumbling around us. Fighting among countries, families being separated, children raising themselves, murder is as easy as pulling the trigger.
This country was built and stood on our love for God, our neighbors, and looking out for each other. This part of our world is being tarnished by the evil in our world. Today it is more about survival, hurt those who hurt us, take from others what we think we deserve.
What do we deserve? Do we have the right to call each day our own? Do we dare count on tomorrow? In my opinion, no, we do not. We are not our own boss, God is our teacher. He is our leader, the all-knowing. He knows which minute is our last. He knows the errors of our ways. He knows our heart.
I can not even say today what I used to say, which was; with enough people gathering together we can make the world a better place. Why? because I am not sure it is supposed to be a better place. Many people believe the world is coming to a point where Jesus will come back. I also believe this but have no knowledge of when.
Although I am smart enough to know from reading Revelations that many verses state what we are living today, we as believers of God must pray not that the world will get better; but that all shall have the opportunity to make that most valuable choice of walking with God or not.
We must be thankful for each day we are given. We should pray a huge thank-you for each gift we are given. We are not in charge of our days, but we can help by pulling together, helping others and loving all, period. We can be a huge marble of support for each other.
Yesterday, Ute, a blogging friend of mine gave me an idea and I actually loved it. There is much confusion we live with today, but I do remember clearly when I was a child going to the giant swings at the park. I remember how free I felt swinging as high as I could. I remember feeling the breeze going through my hair, laughing and giggling while mom and dad pushed me. I am going to go do this. I am going to get some of that free feeling of being a kid again, while the grown-up part of me keeps an eye on my reasons for existence and I prepare for what is to come.
You know we are in charge a lot of the time in our daily routines. Anything from hopping out of bed and taking a shower or not. Getting dressed right a way or being comfy in our night clothes.
Drinking a cup of hot coffee or tea. Making the decision to eat breakfast now or later. So many decisions we make and a lot of the time we don’t even realize we are making those because they are habits or routine.
But in the last couple of days I feel like there is someone stronger than me. Something near me slightly pushing me out-of-the-way. Al has the full reign of the decisions lately and I just tag behind like a poor puppy that is hiding like he did something wrong.
I feel like thoughts are not of my own. That a greater power is among Al and me. All day Al has not acted himself.
I see things. I hear words come out of his mouth that I never thought he would say.
Today he looks different. His skin has sort of a transparent look to it. His fingers are a musky color and his nail beds are pretty gray.
He has spoken about knowing that our Mom is now waiting on him. He even told the care giver today that he needs to make a will now. Tonight he asked me to get the driver’s license out of his wallet of Mom. I had given it to him last year when he started on this roller coaster of daily pain.
He told me he wanted to hold it close to his heart. After we ate supper and I brushed his teeth, he picked up the license and he is holding it next to his heart. How can I not run from the room in tears? How can I not beg him to stop? How can I not scream at God to put a stop to this?
Those are the moments that all of my senses take leave and my emotions run high. Al cried and I cried with him. He began to talk about who was going to be here at Christmas. I told him and he said that he hoped I had a good time.
I told him he was going to have a good time too. I explained that I had wrapped some gifts for him today and he cried harder letting me know I was wasting my money on him as he would not be here to open them.
He told me that he wanted to buy me a Christmas gift. He said he wanted to buy me something that would always remind me of him. I couldn’t take it, I just couldn’t stand hearing those words.
I know in my heart that he has suffered enough. This MSA is a killer in more ways than one. If anyone has any extra change in their pockets please give it to MSA.org. I don’t want any, not even one living soul to have to go through the pain like Al has.
We are putting a blanket in between his legs because they just won’t stay apart due to contractions. He is no longer sweating. Instead his skin is cold and his fingers like ice. The fans have now been turned off until he needs them once again. There is a sickening silence in his room when you walk in.
Everyone says God will take Al in his perfect timing, but come on, this is my brother I am sitting here listening to him talk like this. It is like he has accepted he is going to die soon and he is making his final arrangements. This is very, very hard for a sister to listen to.
All I want for Christmas is for Al to be at peace. Inside peace, outer peace, you name it. Free of pain, no more tears, no more screams of pain, nothing. Quiet, peace. I don’t want to wait for the perfect timing. I am selfish. I want Al to be pain free now. I don’t want him to have to suffer another restless night, and yet there is a part of me that carries hope that this is a living nightmare, a dream and I will wake up and he and I will go hop in the car and find a flea market.
As I stated earlier, something is going on between the heavens and in this house. I know it. I can feel and sense it. I can do nothing to stop it. It is a power of giving up, a will to stop. A tired soul. A body tired of fighting.
As I sit here my heart is being squeezed like the life is being drained from it. I am not alarmed because I know it is from the hurt that is already starting the process of losing someone.
This is certainly one time I do not wish to be alone. I used to love quietness. I loved the peace of hearing nothing. Now, I want chatter. I want something to stir me up so much inside so I can’t think. I can’t go crazy. I can’t cry. I don’t want to face this any longer. I want it over.
I am a weak person when my brother speaks of leaving. I don’t want to cry right now so I am going to end this with All I Want For Christmas Is Peace For My Brother.
All is quiet. Al is in his recliner. A few smiles have been seen tonight for the first time all weekend. He is dry and I have time to dream. I reach out and touch the stars draped over the heavy darkness against the universe.
Who I am 